


Dream

by flippantninny



Series: Bethyl Week [5]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippantninny/pseuds/flippantninny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bethyl Week Day five</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream

**Author's Note:**

> For the fifth day of Bethyl Week.

The first time Daryl woke up to almost a dozen pairs of eyes, all trained on him, was in the box car. It was his turn for some rest after hours on guard, he hadn’t slept in over two days and he hadn’t slept well since he lost Beth, and he  finally conceded to the fact they weren’t getting out of the boxcar any time in the next few hours, so he could fit in a quick nap.

He had jolted awake a couple of hours later and everyone had been staring at him.

"The fuck are y’all lookin’ at?" he’d snapped as he sat up a little, eyes trying to focus in the dark, twenty two eyes still focused on him.

"Beth," Maggie finally said, standing up from next to Glenn and walking towards him, "what happened to her, where is she?"

Daryl frowned. The only person he had told about Beth was Rick, and Rick wasn’t the sort to tell other people’s stories for them.

"What happened to her? Did she get out? Were you with her?"

The questions were being fired at him so fast he couldn’t have answered her if he’d tried.

"Is she alive?" Maggie asked, and then there was silence.

Daryl sat up a little more, leaning his back against the wall of the boxcar, hugging his legs into his chest.

"She’s gone," he finally said, "what makes you think I was with her?"

Again, all eyes snapped back to him but no one said a word.

He nervously glanced from person to person, fighting the urge to chew the skin right off his thumb, trying to work out what had happened in the short time he’d allowed himself some sleep.

"Daryl," Rick finally said, "you were screaming her name for two hours."

* * *

Daryl never dreamed. At least he never remembered the dreams. He supposed he must have been dreaming, people didn’t just unconsciously yell without some accompanying dreams. Half of him wished he could remember the dreams, see her face one more time, hear her voice. He needed her, and if an echo in a dream was all he could get, he would take it for now, a poor substitution for the real thing but enough to help him survive until he found her.

But every night was the same. He would fall asleep then wake up, sweat on his forehead, the taste of her name on his lips, and the sight of worried eyes staring at him.

And then the questions would start.

"Well did you see who was driving the car?"

"No."

"Did Beth have a knife on her?"

"I think so."

"How was her ankle, could she run?"

"Maybe."

"How far could the car have gone?"

"I don’t know."

"How far did you chase it?"

"I don’t know."

"Why can’t you stop screaming her name?"

* * *

"He’s going to attract walkers, he’s a risk to the camp, if we can’t sleep we can’t protect ourselves, we can’t protect Eugene."

Abraham had been complaining for hours. He was tired. Rick was tired. Glenn and Maggie were tired. Everyone was tired.

Daryl was tired.

Knowing he was going to wake up his family, wake up walkers, and dream forgotten dreams of Beth didn’t exactly make it easy to fall asleep.

He was beginning to appreciate the fact he didn’t remember the dreams. He’d over heard a few conversations about himself recently.

_"Should we let him sleep through it, sometimes I think we should wake him up, it sounds like he’s in pain."_

_"I can’t imagine what he’s dreaming, must be bad to make him scream like that."_

_"Do you think he’s in love with her?"_

_"Do you think we’ll find her?"_

He liked to pretend he hadn’t heard the questions. He was going to find her and she was going to be fine and that’s all that mattered.

But right then, Abraham was yelling about gagging him in his sleep so they didn’t have to listen to him, and that mattered a little too.

"What do you propose we do?" Rick asked, "Daryl’s family, we’re not leaving him, and he needs sleep as much as the rest of us."

"Hey, it you’re baby he’s waking up in the middle of the night, it’s your family he’s depriving of sleep. And it’s the whole world that’ll be paying the price if we can’t get to DC."

Daryl didn’t like getting involved in these arguments. Mostly because he agreed with Abraham.

"We’re not going to DC yet anyway, we’re still looking for Beth," Carl said.

"Won’t be going to DC at all at this rate, gonna end up with a herd in our camp if he doesn’t shut the fuck up."

Daryl bit his thumb. He wished more than anything that he would shut up, that the dreams would stop and he could sleep without feeling guilty for robbing everyone else of their sleep at the same time. And the pitying stared were almost too much to handle. He’s thought it was bad when he was in his twenties and someone would catch a glimpse at his back. The looks he’d received then were nothing compared to the looks he was receiving now.  Which made sense. The pain he had felt then was nothing compared to the pain he felt now.

* * *

Weeks of forgotten dreams and Daryl was convinced he would never sleep without screaming again. He certainly never thought he’d be happy about the screams.

But when he was woken by hands wrapping around him and a familiar voice telling him his voice calling her name was the only reason she’d found her way to the camp, had found her way home, he had to appreciate them a little bit.

* * *

After Beth had found them the dreams had started to go. It hadn’t been overnight, more often than not he still woke up with that familiar feeling of loss.

But the pitying stares had gone and the questions had gone and Beth was there and he would be content to never had a night of good sleep again if it meant he could keep waking up next to her.

Two years later and the screaming had almost stopped. Almost.

He laid in his bed, an actual bed that was actual his and Beth’s, in their actual room in their actual house, courtesy of the Alexandria Safe Zone. Sweat coated his forehead and he’d woken up mid scream.

But Beth was there, arms around him, voice in his ear, _I’m here, I’m with you, I love you, I’m here, I’m with you, I love you._

Losing Beth Greene wasn’t something that could be overcome in a few days or hours or weeks. Losing Beth Greene was the sort of thing that would cause nightmares for years to come.

But finding Beth Greene made it all worth it.


End file.
